So, what is it that calls to us…what piper do we dance to? Why are we doing this? Why are we trying to lose weight, anyway? If the answer to that is anything external to ourselves, then we’re in trouble, right? Well, that’s what “they” say - they being the people “out there”; the ones who “know what they’re talking about” - the ones who’ve got this stuff all figured out and know what’s best for everybody else. According to “them”, our motives need to be pure; they need to reflect a healthy self-image, feelings of worthiness, a belief that we’re changing our lifestyle in the interests of good health and long life and physical fitness, etc., etc., rather than being enslaved by the dictates of fashion or, even worse, trying to lose weight and “shape up” to please some man or men - or significant others, or whoever it is we’re trying to please, in general. So, maybe that really is a question that we should ask ourselves quite seriously and sincerely - why ARE we doing this, bottom line? I know I have been in a life-long battle with my weight, and I believe that it has all evolved out of my own mother’s issues, and what she communicated to me about body image and weight, which was, essentially, that my elder sister was “just like Auntie Dot” (skinny) and that I was just like her (chubby).  She told me that when  I was perhaps ten years old, and it’s stuck with me ever since. Even looking at pictures of myself at that age (tall, skinny and gangly) have done nothing to alter my self image - I still  think of myself as the “chubby one”, and may very well always see myself that way. In young adulthood (right @ 24; just after I had my second child) I know perfectly well that I went through a bout of anorexia because after having my daughter, I started eating only once a day - a small steak and green salad - and exercised for 30 minutes three times a day. I lost the pregnancy weight and continued losing until I was about 105 pounds at 5′6″ tall. Probably just about right for today’s skeletal fashion models, but definitely NOT right for a normal person! Eventually, I did achieve some sense of equilibrium and weighed pretty much the right weight for my height for a majority of my adult life, although I always thought of myself as “chubby” and sometimes as downright “fat”. I’d have to say that ONE THING that having a cheating husband seems to do is keep you on your toes relative to your weight and how you look.  It’s bad enough to find out he’s out there messing around with other women - the last thing you want is for people to say they don’t blame him because you’re such a wreck! So, in that sort of situation, you’re always feeling like no matter how hard you try, you’re never going to measure up, and you actually lose sight of the fact (if you ever really knew it) that other women are feeling just like you do - men like my ex are constantly and continually sending them messages about not being good enough, not deserving anybody’s loyalty or love, no matter what they do or how hard they try.  Even men who don’t have Narcissistic Personality Disorder like I’m convinced my ex has (and a LOT more men have than are ever diagnosed), manage to reinforce those feelings of inadequacy without even realizing it - every time they fail to call as they said they would, or don’t appreciate us the way we’d like to be appreciated. And why does that happen? Well, I think it’s all about how we see ourselves. I think we project that (usually negative) image of ourselves out there without even realizing it. I know I did for a long, long time. In fact, when people have, from time to time, said I was beautiful, I was incredulous. What did they WANT? Why were they trying to cozy up to ME? What were they selling, anyway? My current husband has never even entertained the possibility that I could be anything BUT beautiful (even twenty pounds ago, at my heaviest!) and was a little curt with me one time when I was bemoaning something or other….my “bad hair day” or my “fatness”….I disremember right now, but I remember him looking at me like I was crazy and saying, “C’mon, you KNOW you’re beautiful, so stop pretending that you don’t!” But wait a minute! I wasn’t pretending!!!! What am I seeing when I look in the mirror that’s different from what he’s seeing when he looks at me? And why is there a discrepancy? But I also realized that despite my “bad hair days” and even my bona fide chubbiness at varying times, my complaints arise more out of habit now than out of conviction, because I really don’t feel fat and ugly anymore. And I haven’t felt like that for quite a long time, now….something changed during the months after my divorce from my ex. Somehow, I entered into a period of pleasing ME, which, after 20+ years of raising children and working at a career and trying unsuccessfully to have a bearable marriage, was pretty amazing. Pretty freeing. Pretty nice. I kept my weight where it was supposed to be because I was WALKING constantly…I remember power-walking around the one-mile radius of a park near my house and feeling invinceable. Remember that old song, “I am woman, hear me roar…”? That’s how I felt. I met my current husband (the one I’m planning to keep ) after I met ME…and discovered how much I liked the woman that I am. And so, you ask, if I like myself so darned much, why am I trying to lose weight? It’s a valid question. It’s a good question. Mostly, it’s because I got too danged comfortable and started enjoying my comforts too danged much. I used to smoke, and then I started getting short of breath and knew I’d better quit. So I did that, and in quitting one bad habit, started eating “goodies” to reward myself for quitting the smoking. Dumb and dumber, as the saying goes. I started breathing pretty well, but felt tired and lethargic all the time anyway, because I was eating too much! So now I’m eating less, have lost some weight and have some more to lose. And it’s ALL GOOD. Seriously. What would life be without any goals, without anything we needed to accomplish? What if we LOOKED perfect, were in perfect health, had perfect husbands (or significant others, or partners, or whatever) perfect kids, perfect lives….hmmmm. I don’t know about you, but to me, it all sounds deathly dull. Give me a challenge - a goal - a carrot on the end of the stick. Perfection frankly bores the bejesus out of me. I can’t even imagine a life where there was nothing to strive for, nothing to make our work, our efforts, the energy we put into it all, productive and fruitful? I am truly learning - at this late date - to love myself even more not in SPITE of, but because of the vulnerabilities and imperfections, and because of that, I find loving and understanding others ever so much more natural and easy a thing as well. I really, really wish that everyone - all of us women, anyway - could just “dance to our own music”,  agonize less over unimportant things, see the bigger picture sometimes, and feel joy a little more.

E!